


Gift to the Lord, A

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Humor, Other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Sauron wants is a fangirl...a precious, aggravating Mary Sue. Amd what the Lord of the Rings wants, he gets! Inspired by J. Marie's "And Now, A Message From Sauron."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift to the Lord, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

(We see a girl in her teens sitting in front of a computer. On the screen  
is the climatic chapter of a slash fanfic, but she isn't typing anything.  
Instead, she is having coughing fits from time to time, or tapping her  
nails on the desk. This would be the author of this tripe, known as Little  
Rat.)

LR: *doubles over coughing, then returns to tapping nails* How am I going  
to make this scene work? I mean...slash writing isn't easy...and my story's  
doing pretty good; I don't wanna disappoint anyone by screwing up one of  
the most crucial scenes! Damn it...where's my muse!

*phone rings*

*LR picks up phone. We can see her face now, framed by copper hair. She  
nods and listens for a moment, then her green eyes go wide.*

LR: *weakly* Are you serious?

Sauron: I'm afraid so.

LR: *groans* Can't it wait? I'm trying to do "An Ounce of Blood"! Have you  
read that one yet, m'lord? It's good...maybe it'll distract you until I have  
*time* to write you a M---"

Sauron: Damn that blonde Elf Legolas! Hang Haldir! It's always about the  
Elves! *Always*! Everything revolves around the Elves! And I'll tell you  
why. It's because they're *blond* and *shiny* that's wh---"

LR: Actually, it's quite frequently about Aragorn. Even the Hobbits,  
sometimes...

Sauron: Damn them all, wench! We've already been through this...it was my  
message that *inspired* you to write this, *remember*?

LR: *meekly* Yes, yes sir...I'm sure I can put "An Ounce of Blood" on hold to  
write this absolute *tripe* that's gonna earn me no end of flames, but hey...

Sauron: *dangerously* Good. *hangs up.*

LR: Damn. *hangs up.*

AND NOW, THE TRIPE SHALL BEGIN...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an entirely havoc-ridden day in Mordor, and even the Orcs were  
choking on the dust in the air, and they were all whining anyway, but  
nothing out of the ordinary. The usual empty threats of mutiny, complaints  
that they were having a hard time getting in with the "in-crowd" of those  
hottie Uruk-Hai (Sauron would have to speak to Saruman about this...the  
little upstart shoulda known that creating cliques in the regiments wasn't  
a good thing. Whatever happened to peace and love within the ranks, for the  
well-being of supreme evil?!?) and, naturally, the occasional yell of "My  
trousers are too tight!"

Did the Orcs even *wear* trousers? The rightful Lord of the Rings (for yes,  
indeedy, he was) shuddered to think of the possible answers. Even so,  
Sauron was feeling miiiiiiiiiighty special on this, uh, fine day. Well,  
fine for him.

Despite the Orcs' endless complaints, despite the endlessly warring troops  
of authors debating whether he could or could not take physical form any  
more:

~*~*~*~*~

"No he can't! He abandoned physical form after the Ring was cut from his  
finger, remember?"

"Well, he's powerful! He could always take physical from again, if he  
wanted to! He just happens to think the Eye is cool!"

"We're telling you, ya great bunch of idiots, that Sauron can*not* take  
physical form! That goe against canon!"

"So does practically every fanfic ever written! That's why it's called  
*fanfiction*! We get to manipulate things to *our* will! Thus, Sauron is  
able to take physical form!"

"Oh, go shove it up your---"

~*~*~*~*~

ANYWAY...

Despite endlessly warring troops of authors debating whether Sauron could  
take physical form or not, the Lord had finally decided to go with the  
former group (Sure, the 'great eye wreathed in flame' thing looked wicked,  
but it grew to be sooooooo tedious) and assume physical form again. Why?  
Because he felt like it.

That shut up those canon-thumping extremists right quick. (No offense to  
people who write using only canon.) Even despite those cute little Hobbits,  
that androgynous-yet-masculine beauty of an Elf, and that wild-looking,  
dark Man who were all mucking about trying to destroy his pretty ring while  
all the fangirls swooned, Sauron was feeling pretty good. He had spent  
practically the whole day in front of a mirror, admiring his new physical  
self. He had given himself an almost impossibly tall body frame, (taller  
than Aragorn by quite a bit, something along the line of his *old* physical  
body) broad shoulders, lots of muscles and thick black hair and a beard.  
Sauron still had that whole flaming-eye thing going on, but who was he to  
complain? "I bet the fangirls will really go for it," he smirked to  
himself, petting his beard the way some sane people might pet their cat or  
whatever. Such a nice beard...so nice...so nice to stroke. Even Gimli would be  
jealous of his beard, he vowed. "Hang all those righteous, Fellowshippy-  
hippie types!" he growled. "All the women in Middle earth, or that  
enchanting land of authoresses will flock to *me*! Human girls, Elf maids,  
Dwarf women, Hobbit lasses, Orcish lovelies, Authoresses!" ---He was pretty  
convinced that authoresses were a most fair species, seeing as how they  
popped into Middle Earth quite often and ensnared someone, almost as often  
as...Mary Sues---" And even...dare I say it...MARY SUES! I, Sauron, can have one  
of those blonde, blue-eyed, impossibly multi-talented buxom Mary-Sues! Or  
maybe I want the warrior type...the type that is impossibly stoic, has a  
secret past, a fiery temper and rebellious streak, who swears off love only  
to find it! But ah...a Mary Sue, for me...I'll let them *have* the Ring, if  
only those peace-loving FellowsHippies will just bring me one precious Mary  
Sue!" Sauron was practically in tears after this rapture, as he stared into  
the mirror and admired his new form some more. Gradually, all this thinking  
of Mary Sues made him remember a certain green-eyed Authoress he had spoken  
to before.

"That little wench better not have forgotten that promise she made me and  
gone back to her little piece about those nancy Elves and blood, or  
whatever. She promised me a Mary Sue! If she won't give me one of those  
tempting lasses, I'll just have to have her guts for garters, now won't  
I!?!" Sauron ranted to his beard, stroking it and quite forgetting that he  
didn't *wear* garters. (Although he wasn't too sure about the Orcs. Or  
Saruman, for that matter...wizard-boi was looking *awfully* feminine these  
days...)

Reaching deep into a pocket of his *impressive* (not really) black  
trousers, (how can they be impressive? They're just trousers!) Sauron  
pulled out...a cell phone. Who knew where he had gotten it, but, hey.

"Hello. Is this the Authoress who parades around flaunting that story about  
the Elves and calling herself Little Rat, always taking care to mention  
that she's on a collab name as Wicked Spring?"

"Yes, this is me...and I don't *parade* or flaunt anything. I don't even have  
a following, jeez! I just write. Whaddaya want?" The Authoress's voice grew  
suspicious. "If you're that Nazgul who called me from Bree for a date, I  
already told you, I'm sick! Unless you wanna catch mono..." her talk was  
interrupted by a fit of coughing. When she stopped, Sauron said nervously  
and a tad politely into the phone (the poor thing didn't sound healthy; he  
didn't want to trouble her):

"Oh, no, no, no...this is Sauron. Remember? I called you a few minutes ago?  
Yeah. Well, I have physical form now...yes, yes I know its great. I'm  
excited, too. No, their trousers are too tight. Yes, I'll make sure they  
don't shed them...ok. Well, anyway, I called about that Mary Sue you  
promised me. Remember? Of course, if you're sick...I don't want to trouble  
you."

"No, it's ok. The only thing I have to do is write. Did you read "An Ounce  
of Blood"? See, Wasn't it good? I'm glad you think so...yes. Yes. No, I  
didn't witness anything first-hand. Well, just as long as the Orcs keep  
their trousers on, regardless of tightness. Ok. Mmhmm. I'm writing that  
Mary-Sue right now."

Sauron was overjoyed, and danced about the room happily, lavishly petting  
his beard and talking to it. Looking out of a window, he saw a teenage girl  
eyeing the Orcs and their trousers suspiciously as she bent over a  
computer, copper hair shielding her green eyes from view. Little Rat looked  
up, waved and disappeared.

"Well, that was strange..." Sauron mused. "But I get a Mary-Sue! A MARY SUE!  
A fangirl all of my own!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A FEW HOURS LATER...

Some Random Orc came running into Sauron's bedroom-thingy, where the Maia  
stood admiring his reflection. Again. Sauron tried to ignore the fact that  
this Orc's trousers were *obviously* too tight.

"I find this...creature...sneaking 'round here with a Ring..." Some Random Orc  
informed him rather proudly. "Brought to you to kill."

Seeing the long, perfect blond hair and slim legs, Sauron's first thought  
was:

'It's that dratted *Elf* again! No one has hair that perfect...or legs that  
slim and sculpted...yet...'

Some Random Orc dropped the figure on the floor, and walked away, whistling  
and wondering about a tailor. Just then, the alleged Elf stood up.  
Sauron's eyes practically bulged out. This was no Elf. Yes, the creature  
before him *did* have a perfectly sculpted body, full lips, deep blue eyes,  
and long, silky blonde hair. And she was about as tall as that Elf, too.  
But her blue eyes were strangely devoid of a little matter some of us like  
to call "intelligence" and she was giving him this simpering look that he  
considered nothing below *adorable*.

Almost gently, for a dark lord, Sauron knelt down and took her chin in one  
hand, barely suppressing a high, girly squeal of joy. (The other hand was  
excitedly stroking his new pet, his beard, whom he had named Beard.)

"What's your name, girl?" He growled softly, trying to appear impressive,  
yet gentle. (Ha! I'll show those pretty boys from the Fellowship a thing or  
two! It should have been *me* who was voted Hottest in the yearbook...not a  
tie between Frodo, Legolas and Aragorn! Pah...Aragorn's dirty anyway...)

She looked up at him with those simpering eyes, full of what he could only  
guess was love. (He had never seen that emotion before. He wouldn't know  
love if it came up and danced starkers before him, wearing a Wal-Mart  
smiley face on its arse.)

"My name is Mary Sue! I am also known as Sailor Earth, the all-powerful  
last minute addition to the Sailor Senshi, who they just *couldn't* get  
along without. I'm sixteen years old"---she giggled---" and also attended  
Hogwarts school of WitchCraft (faaaaaake! Go brush up on Wicca) and  
Wizardry for a few years after I transferred there when I was thirteen. All  
the boys there fell in love or lust with me, and of course the Slytherins  
became nice. I speak every single language ever recorded, and some that  
aren't, I dance like a harem girl, fight like a dragon in a pinch"---giggle-  
\--"and sing like an angel. I also traveled briefly with the Fellowship and  
saved Gandalf, consoled Boromir and made sure he didn't die, took the blade  
for Frodo at the Weathertop, stopped the body before Pippin could knock it  
down the well, slew the Watcher in the Water and numerous other things,  
before nipping off with this nice piece of evil jewelry"---here, she  
casually threw it out the window in an impressive toss, where it landed in  
Mount Doom and burnt away to nothing---" signing Gollum up for counseling,  
and coming here to join *you*! All the members of the Fellowship wanted me,  
but I only thought about you." She giggled again, and twirled her blonde  
hair around her finger. Definitely a Mary Sue.

"You...were thinking...of me?"

"Yes!" She squealed in her musical voice, still lilting even when  
squealing. "Ohmygosh, Sauron, I am your *biggest* fan! No one in that  
Fellowship is a s sexy as you are! No one! Not the Hobbots, not that Elf (I  
have prettier hair, anyway) and not that dirty king dude, What's-his-name.  
He seriously needed a bath. But you, Sauron! You have power, you have  
prestige, you have those smoldering eyes, and that manliness! You really  
knew how to rule. Not to mention, you're a *great* jeweler. I cried so hard  
at the movie when Isildur cut off your pretty ring..."

Sauron could almost feel his own eyes tearing up. A fangirl! A Mary-Sue all  
for him! She would fill his ears with her adorable shrieking that only a  
fangirl can produce. That blonde hair and those blue eyes would haunt his  
dreams! And she said his ring was pretty! Most people were just, like,  
"Aaaah! Evil Destroy it! Kill, kill, kill!" No doubt about it, she was  
definitely the girl for him.

"I'm glad you think my jewelry is pretty..." Sauron began. "because I think  
I'll be making two new rings...engagement rings."

From behind the door, Little Rat burst out laughing, along with all  
the Orcs (who were now wearing new trousers that Mary Sue, who was also an  
expert seamstress, had given them.) She high-fived Some Random Orc for  
capturing the Mary Sue for her (she didn't like to invent them...it just  
meant that there would be one more of those...things...loosed on the world.)  
and crept off with her computer.

Sauron and Mary Sue lived happily ever after till the end of their days,  
spending lengthy hours petting and admiring Beard, and doing obscene things  
in the privacy of their own bedroom.

THE LONG-AWAITED END.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
